Damned
by SkittlezLvr79
Summary: The life she tried to build fell apart and she's come back to reclaim her job and confront the one person who saw it coming.
1. Chapter 1

**Disclaimer: No infringement is intended and I don't own the people used in this work of fiction. They belong to themselves. The company and their respective onscreen persona's belong to Vince McMahon.**

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Trish took a deep breath and pushed open the doors to the arena. The usual chaos and confusion of the backstage area greeted her and reminded her of all she had given up for something that crashed and burned. The marriage and normal life she had hoped for never materialized. Her husband could never accept the fact that she wasn't the type of woman who wanted to stay at home and let her husband take care of her, that she wanted a career of her own. He couldn't accept the fact that she was a beloved star in Canada and that she'd never have a private life. So after just seven months of marriage, they were over.

The ink on the divorce papers was barely dry when she scheduled this meeting with Vince, seeing this as her chance to find happiness once again. She didn't have the same nervousness that she had the first time she met with the WWE chairman. It was common knowledge in the industry that he'd jump at the chance to have her back in fold. Internet sites were constantly reporting how he had been very disappointed with the way the woman's division had declined. So the meeting was nothing more than a formality and she had no reason to be worried about.

That meant that butterflies were plaguing her stomach were there for an entirely different reason. One she tried to force herself not to think about. That effort had been futile in the end though. The damn encounter had plagued her day and night for the last ten months. Playing over and over in her head like a song that had been left on repeat.

_She was sitting at the hotel bar, alone, drinking her third glass of wine in the last fifteen minutes and the ninth since she arrived fifty minutes ago. Usually, she wasn't a heavy drinker but tonight she needed the comfort it provided her with. The speculation was over and the world knew now that she was leaving the wrestling business, running away to have a life that didn't revolve around taking bumps and being the it girl for the federation. She'd miss it and the people she worked with, but if her marriage was going to work then she had to walk away. Ron deserved that much after being patient with her for so many years._

_Someone sat on the stool next to her and she could faintly smell cologne. Mentally she groaned, hoping that it wasn't some sleazy guy who thought he'd be able to pick her up because she was drunk. Even though she was, they wouldn't succeed in the mission. It took a lot more than wine to make her forget that she was a taken woman. She ignored the person, not wanting to give them any opening to use horribly ridiculous pick-up lines that would make her laugh in their face._

_"So, you're really retiring." The softly drawled statement betrayed the slightest hint of a southern accent._

_She turned toward him and shrugged. "It's time to have some normalcy."_

_He took a long swallow from the glass in his hand, eyes accessing her over the rim. There was something in those fathomless green depths, some emotion that she couldn't identify._

_"I want this." She stated but it lacked conviction._

_"Uh-huh." The casualness in his tone belied the scrutiny of his gaze. He took another deliberate sip from his glass and continued to stare at her._

_"I do." Her tone was insistent but she didn't know if she was trying to convince him or herself._

_Jeff gave her a crooked grin, "I'm sure."_

_Her blood boiled at the patronizing tone. She gripped the stem of her wineglass tightly, knuckles turning white from the effort. "It was my choice."_

_He nodded, enjoying his drink one again. But those damn eyes, the ones that looked at you as if he could see all the way to your soul, never left hers._

_The intense, knowing gaze was getting on her nerves. She glared back at him, resisting the urge to slap that cocky look off his face. "Stop it."_

_"Stop what?"_

_"Looking at me like I'm lying!" She practically yelled, her anger getting the better of weakened control. "Because I'm not. I made the decision. No one else."_

_"Who thought of it?" He inquired with that damn casualness, slowly swirling the contents of his glass around._

_"What?"_

_"Who came up with the idea that the only way to have some normalcy in your life was to walk away from the one thing you truly love?"_

_She felt her face flush even more but this time; it had nothing to do with the wine. How the hell did he seem to know that it had been Ron's idea and not hers? She broke eye contact and finished the rest of her beverage in one sip, providing herself with a momentary distract before she lied. "I did."_

_"Yeah, right."_

_"Why does it even matter to you?" She hissed, eyes flashing with anger. "It's not like we've been close over the last four years."_

_"That's true." He volleyed, "But no matter what, I still care about you and don't want to see you make the biggest mistake of your life."_

_"By leaving the business?"_

_He shook his head slowly, "No, by marrying a guy who wants you to be someone you're not."_

_"Ron doesn't want me to be someone I'm not." The protest fell bitterly, almost resentfully from her lips._

_"He wants you to be normal Trish and you're anything but." Jeff stated flatly, as if it was something she should have known, should have come to grips with a long time ago. "And no matter how hard you try to play the role, you'll never be able to just be normal."_

_It was hard to tell if he meant that as a compliment or if it was a ploy to get under her skin. But it didn't matter. She wouldn't allow him and his know it all attitude to affect her or make her second guess the choices she made. "Just go away Jeff."_

_"If that's what you want." He got up but pinned her with one last intense look. "I figure I won't be one of the people you say goodbye to when you leave but it doesn't matter."_

_"Why's that?" The inquiry was made with no real interest._

_"Because I'll see you again when it doesn't work out."_

_She watched him walk away without a backward glance, seething over what he said. Because he was wrong. Dead wrong. He wouldn't be seeing her because it was going to work out. It had to. She was giving up everything to insure that it would._

Trish shook the memory away, bristling over the fact that he had been proven right. She wanted to be able to make him eat them, to gloat over his half-assed assumptions. But obviously, she couldn't do that now. That didn't mean that he was off the hook though. Far from it. Once she saw him again, she was going to give the jerk a piece of her mind.


	2. Chapter 2

Trish smiled broadly as she exited Vince's office. Everything was signed and official. She was back and would make her return that night. While she was anxious about the crowd's reaction, she couldn't wait to step out of the curtain and start on the path of reclaiming her spot as the WWE's top diva. Sure, it was only a run in during a match, whose she didn't know yet, but it was going to lead to bigger and better things. She'd probably have the women's championship back by the end of the month.

It wasn't arrogance on her part. It was knowledge that the creative team would use her return to gain attention for the struggling division. And there was no better way to accomplish that than putting the strap on their most experienced woman wrestler. That way the other girls who were still learning and developing would have time to improve. Time to learn how to sell and carry a match and what ring psychology really was.

She made her way through the back, ignoring the surprised glances of the other superstars. They'd find out soon enough that her being there was more than a social visit so she didn't bother to stop and fill them in. She didn't have time to. After all, she was on a mission. The business aspect was settled, now it was time to take care of her personal matter.

Finding a stagehand, she asked him what she needed to know. She got the information and continued to determinedly stride down the hall. Locating the door, she stopped outside and steeled herself. Once she was calm, her fist loudly struck the door and she waited for a response. Either she couldn't hear it or there wasn't one to be heard.

She flung open the door and walked into the empty room, scowling. He wasn't there yet. How typical and predictable of him. Some things never changed. Sighing, she sat down on the hard wooden bench and crossed her arms over her chest, waiting on the tardy man.

Her wait wasn't long. About three minutes after she sat down, he entered the room. She expected for him to be shocked at the sight of her, for some kind of reaction. But he wasn't and she got none. His eyes merely swept over her as he dropped his bag down onto the floor and a small smirk curved the corners of his lips.

"This a social visit?" There was an air of sarcasm to the question and he looked down on her with that damn grin.

She bristled, anger rippling through her at the all too familiar mocking tone. "What do you think?"

"I think you came back to work."

Her face fell at his statement, mind racing in disbelief. How the hell had he known? The meeting where it would be announced wasn't for another two hours. Maybe he was psychic or had E.S.P or…something. Because if not then he could read people and that was a notion that shook her to the core.

"So?" He queried but his voice lacked any curiosity. "Am I right?"

"Maybe, maybe not." She offered vaguely, not wanting to be the one who confirmed it for him and give him ammunition against her.

He chuckled smoothly, a rich, amused sound that sent a chill down her spine. One eyebrow lifted as he studied her and the smirk grew wider. "I know I'm right. But I'm confused on one thing."

"And that would be?"

"Why'd it take so long?" He raked a hand through his multicolored hair, eyes never leaving hers. "I thought the marriage would've crumbled in six months tops."

She hated that he was so close to pinpointing the exact amount of time it had taken for the life she built to be swept out from under her. To him the situation was laughable, nothing more than a big joke. To her it was devastating and made her question her own worth. Before she could reign in the impulse, she stood up and slapped him across that pugnacious face of his.

The loud pop of her palm against his cheek resonated in the empty room. Her hand stung from the force of the blow and there was a bright red handprint on his face. She shook her stinging hand to get the blood flowing in it again and turned, intent on taking her seat. But he gripped her arm, stopping her progress. She looked over her shoulder at him, her eyes smoldering with rage.

"Want to tell me what that was for?"

"For being such a smug, arrogant asshole." She wrenched her arm out of his grasp and spun to face him. Jabbing her index finger into his chest, she continued to point out the flaws in his character. "For assuming that you have the right to mock people's lives and tear them apart. Like you're better than them when you're not."

"Believe me, I don't think that I'm better than anyone." He sneered, lips curved in contempt. "But I'm more perceptive than most and that's why you're pissed off. What happened? Did I nail the T.O.D of your marriage?"

"No."

"I came close though, right?"

She groaned, angrily pushing her hand through her hair. "My personal life is none of your damn business. We're not friends. We're nothing."

"We're coworkers." He tossed out casually as she brushed past him, his eyes on her retreating back. "Or did you forget about that in the excitement of resigning with the company?"

She ignored him, making her way to the door. It was a waste of time to tell him off. He was either too stupid or too conceited to get the point. And responding to him only served the purpose of getting him deeper under your skin.

"At one point in time, we were friends!" He reminded her as her hand closed over the doorknob. "Actually, we were more than that. A lot more. If you remember correctly, we were lovers."

Trish froze, swallowing the sudden thickness in her throat. But she made no move to refute or acknowledge that remark.

He closed the distance between them, his warm breath fanning against her cheek as he leaned in, his mouth hovering close to her ear. "Isn't it funny that your comeback starts in the first arena we ever got physical in."

Harsh breaths tumbled freely over her lips and her hands clenched into fists. She wanted to hit him again. To knock that all too familiar grin off his face. He deserved it for throwing the past back in her face. A past that she worked very hard to repress and move on from.

His finger trailed down her arm and left goose bumps in its wake. She tore it away from him, clutching it to her side. He laughed and it sounded almost sadistic. "It was right here in this room. We tore each other clothes off and screwed one another senseless. Remember that?"

"What's your point?" She hissed, finally looking at him.

"Just that we used to be very, very friendly." He smiled, the disturbing, sudden smile that sent a sliver of dismay through her. His tongue darted out, wetting those lush, cruel lips with exaggerated laziness. "Seemed like you forgot that."

She rolled her eyes, tossing her hair back behind her shoulder. "Ever think I don't mention it because it didn't mean anything to me?"

"Doesn't matter if it meant anything. It happened." He leaned n closer and his finger traced the curve of her upper lip. "Too bad I lost count of exactly how many times it happened."

Her entire body was stiff, rigid with tension. He was enjoying every sick minute of this. Playing a game of cat and mouse. Taunting her with their past indiscretions. Trying to find the bait to make her snap.

But she wouldn't go for it. She wouldn't give him the satisfaction of knowing that he hit a nerve. No matter what he threw at her, she had to stay calm. Of course that was easier said than done. Because even though she didn't want it to, her temper was rising with every vicious word he spoke.

"Every night we were on the road for two year, several times a night." He tapped a finger to his chin as he pretended to be calculating. "That's about what? A thousand times?"

"Shut up."

"Didn't have that same passion with your husband, huh? How could you?" His fingers slipped beneath her chin and drew her face up so he could force her to meet his eyes. "He didn't know the real you to love you for it."

"Love didn't play a factor in what happened between us either." She shot back, twisting out of his grip. "It was just sex."

He cupped her cheeks and held her in place. "And we loved every minute of it."

"It was," She paused, searching for a word that adequately summed up the experience without agreeing with his point of view. Drawing a blank, she shrugged. "It was what it was. Nothing more, nothing less."

"Liar."

"You think you know me so well, know what I felt. But the truth is, you never did." Her words were somewhat bitter and acid-laced, years of pent up emotion seeping through her blank expression. "Just like you think I could never be normal."

"You can't be. The fact that you're back here less than a year after you retire to pursue the lofty dream proves that I was right." His thumbs swept over her cheeks, lips curved in that infuriating smile. "You just can't admit it. But once Vince makes the announcement, you'll have to stop living in denial."

"Let me go." She was practically pleading with him now, needing to be as far away from his far too observant eyes as se could be.

"No."

She huffed, trying herself up to her full but less than impressive stature, putting on her best icy look. "It wasn't up for negotiation. I want you to take your hands off of me."

He chuckled loudly, throwing his head back and the sound bounced around the large room, slamming into her. "You don't want me to take my hands off you."

"I do."

"You want me to have my hands all over you, to tear your clothes off and taste you once again." His tone was husky, that sweet southern drawl rolling over her like thick, warm honey. One hand left her cheek, palm tracing down the contour of her neck and slipping into her long hair. "You want me to remind why I'm right, why you could never be or settle for just being normal."

"No," But she swallowed thickly, falling into his captivating eyes.

"Yes." Jeff affirmed, his face getting closer to hers. "Deep down, you know the truth darlin'. You're just afraid to admit it."

"What truth?" She managed to eek out in a broken whisper.

"That you don't want someone who treats you like a trophy, like this perfect being that needs to be put up on a pedestal." There was such a strong confidence in his statement that it shook her to her core. "Normal is boring, expected. There's no mystery, no desire, no unpredictability."

"I-I-I…"

"You want someone who'll push past the pretenses you created, who won't treat you like your breakable."

Weakly, she shook her head, his lips so close to hers that she could feel his breath brushing them.

"Someone who'll shove you up against the wall and take your body places that only he can." His tongue flicked over her bottom lip and she shuddered. "You crave excitement, the unknown, the uncertainty."

She wanted to refute that but her voice had abandoned her. Her lips moved, forming a soundless no. But the gesture was useless, meaningless. The tension in the room was unbearable and she knew that something was going to happen, something was going to break. She just hoped that whatever broke could be put back together when all was said and done.

"You crave me." His lips descended onto hers, hands fisting in the waterfall of gold that spilled down her back.


	3. Chapter 3

Trish shoved him away from her and wiped her lips with the back of her hand, repulsed by the kiss. She glared at him, eyes trying to burn a hole through the smug bastard. He was the picture of satisfaction, right down to the evil grin firmly entrenched on his lips. It was clear that the only reason he kissed her was to see how she'd react and find an opening he could exploit for his own personal gain. It wasn't surprising though because it was typical of him, completely in line with the person he had become.

She put some much-needed distance between them, catching the breath he had stolen from her. Exhaling loudly, when she spoke her voice was sharp and warning, not to be argued with. "I don't know what you think gave you the right to kiss me but don't ever do it again."

Jeff's eyebrow rose but she knew that it was for the effect, not a genuine interest or emotion. Because he wasn't capable of that. Hadn't been in a long time. He had the part of a caring, sweet guy down to a science but that's all it was. A role that he played to perfection to prevent others from finding out the ugly truth about him.

"Why not?" His tone was supposed to be a practiced uninterested monotone but she could detect a hint of amusement in it that shattered the illusion.

"You know why." She bit out acidly, sneering in contempt at him.

Of course he had a disinterested expression painted on his face, pretending not to be fazed by her less than friendly demeanor. "Because you're a married woman and it's wrong?"

Her lines pursed in a tight, flat line at the mocking but she refused to answer that question. It was nothing more than a cheap ploy on his part, one she wouldn't be stupid enough to fall for. If she gave him an inch and he'd take a mile then drive over her prone corpse, laughing all the while. She gave him a blank look in return and crossed her arms over her chest, almost defiantly. Everything about her was closed off, her emotions tightly in check behind a thick, unyielding wall.

"Touchy subject huh?" He shook his head, long multicolored lock twisting on his shoulders. "I'll drop it then."

She remained silent, her expression wintry. No matter what verbal grenade he tossed at her, she would do her best not to respond. Doing nothing would get to him a hell of a lot more than anything she replied with. It couldn't look like she was backing down from this fight either though or he'd think victory was his. Holding his eyes, she knew that her own were flat and dull.

"Such a good poker face," he commented dryly, head tilted as he studied her. "Must have perfected it during your marriage, trying to mask the fact that he bored you out of your skull."

Nails dug into the skin of her arms as she fought not to react to that. It wasn't an easy task. Everything in her was screaming at her to do something. Verbally berate him. Slap him again. Choke him until he was no longer breathing. But she resisted, not wanting to give him the satisfaction of knowing how badly he was getting to her.

"If you listened to me last year, you could have avoided it." His lips curved in a smile that was slightly sadistic. "Imagine all the wicked things we could have done. But I guess we don't have to imagine now that you're back."

"Imagine all you want." She broke her self-imposed silence. "Because the only place anything will happen between us is in your head."

He licked his lips, as if savoring her resistance to something he believed to be only a matter of time. "Ok, sure, only in my head."

"I'm serious."

"I believe you." The statement was patronizing and slightly sarcastic. He rolled his eyes, pushing stray pieces of hair away from his face. "Really, I do."

"Let me burst your sick little bubble. Nothing will ever happen between us again." Her control was gone and her temper had risen to epic proportions. She released the grip she had on her arms and held her head up high. "Why would I get close to, let alone sleep with a man that I despise?"

"You don't despise me." The infuriating confidence of his tone rolled over her, making her feel sick to her stomach. "You only wish that you did."

"Don't believe me. I don't care. I know for a fact that I loathe you with every fiber of my being and every inch of my soul." She stepped forward and jabbed her finger into his chest. "You are a selfish, conceited, immature phony who's bitter because he fucked up his own life. So you try to bring other people down with him."

He chuckled but it lacked mirth, the sound false and brittle as he removed her hand from him. With an exaggerated casualness, he raked his hand through his hair as he looked down at her. "If that's what you have to tell yourself-"

"You weren't always like that though." She continued dissecting him, knowing that it would bother him once she started using what she knew about him against him. "At one time, you were actually a decent human being. Guess that the drugs robbed you of that too."

His body stiffened, spots of color blooming on his cheeks. He opened his mouth but she quickly cut him off before he could speak, taking advantage of the weakness he inadvertently displayed.

"You're life is nothing. Meaningless. Empty. Pathetic." She made sure that ever word was as sharp as the tip of a knife, wanting them to shred his black heart. "And that kills you because you were supposed to be the next big thing. The golden boy who was destined for greatness. The heir apparent to Shawn Michaels coveted throne."

She dropped her voice, moving in for the proverbial kill. "But you threw it all away because you knew that you couldn't handle it. That you didn't have it in you to succeed. Oh you could try but you'd fail miserably."

Jeff was breathing heavily, face completely flushed in anger. He glared at her, his emerald eyes smoldering with barely controlled rage and his hands were curled in tight, painfully white fists. His lips parted as he went to speak but she once again cut him off unapologetically, enjoying every minute of this.

"People see through the act now. They know that you're nothing more than a pathetic shell of a man. Someone completely incapable of living up to the hype. Of feeling something real for anyone other than himself."

"That's not true." The words were a brutal hiss and he tried to grab her but she sidestepped his attempt. "You of all people should know that."

"Spare me the misunderstood soul spiel." She rolled her eyes, "Because I prefer not to be knee deep in bullshit. Ruins my shoes and pants."

With one last withering gaze at him, she spun on her heel and stormed out of the locker room, letting the door slam loudly behind her. She strode down the hall and inhaled deeply, a sense of victory washing over her. After that confrontation, he wouldn't be so fierce to comment on her personal life when she knew what skeletons of his to expose. It sucked that she had to stoop to his level but it needed to be done. Someone had to knock him down a pegs and she was happy that she got to be that person.

Trish sat in the catering area, listening with no real interest as Vince babbled on about the changes in the creative team, getting back to what made them the number federation in the world and the fact that ratings needed to increase. She examined her nails as he started in on his desire to bring back kayfabe to the business because it would be a perfect tool to stop the so-called news sites from spoiling upcoming storylines. Her eyes glazed over as he started listing ways to accomplish his goal, going so far to order people who were working an angle together to be travel companions. There were murmurs of disbelief around the room but she didn't join in. All she cared about was finding out about the part she was going to play in the show tonight.

"I know you're all wondering why Trish is here," Vince began, a broad smile breaking across his face. "I'm very happy to announce that she has resigned with the company and will make her return to television tonight."

There was a smattering of applause and she could feel eyes on her. But she ignored the looks and speculative whispers as they tried to figure out what happened and what her storyline would be. Her entire being was focused on her boss, waiting to hear whom she'd be working with. She leaned forward in her seat as he picked up a piece of paper that she easily recognized as a booking sheet.

"The matches tonight are as follows: Cena against Orton. Cade and Murdoch against Cryme Time. Benjamin and Haas against London and Kendrick. Michelle against Hall."

She frowned when he didn't announce her run in as part of that match, brows knitting together in confusion. Why hadn't he told her that was her spot? Did he forget to mention it, figuring that she'd just know? Or was there was another diva's match she was going to interfere in?

Vince consulted the sheet some more, "Kennedy against Carlito. Booker against Lawler. Umaga with Melina in his corner against Hardy."

A dull throb started in the back of her head as Vince found her in the crowd and smiled. She didn't want him to open his mouth because she had a bad feeling that she knew what the chairman was going to say and didn't want to hear it. But unfortunately, he confirmed that she had a reason to regret coming back.

"Trish, that's where you'll run down at the conclusion of that match to even up the sides and we'll restart the angle between Jeff and you."

She felt eyes on her again but this time she turned toward the source, having a suspicion that she knew who the heated gaze belonged to. Her eyes locked on Jeff's, a pit of dread taking up residency in her stomach. This was not good at all. For the first time in her career, she was going to be stuck in a hostile working relationship. A relationship that had already exploded once that day and would inevitably erupt again.

His gaze was level but that disturbing, annoying smile clung to his lips. He obviously wasn't happy with the announcement either. But that all too familiar look on his face told her that he had something up his sleeve. Knowing him, whatever he was plotting wouldn't improve the dynamic between them. If anything, it would probably cause more damage.

She watched him mouth something to her and she turned her attention back to the front of the room, fighting the urge to scream. Her arms folded over her chest, she bit down on her lip, trying to block it out. But she couldn't and the words he had mouthed to her ran through her head, tarnishing the victory she had claimed earlier.

_"Told you so."_


	4. Chapter 4

The gorilla position was bustling. Writer's stood by, watching the action unfold on the monitors and taking notes. Stephanie and Vince sat at the tables, surrounded by televisions, speaking only to give the referee instructions. Trish paced back and forth restlessly, slapping her hands against her thighs nervously as she waited for her cue. She could hear every reaction of the crowd in response to the match and stopped in her tracks, trying to prepare herself.

Inhaling and exhaling deeply, she raked a shaking hand through her hair and tried to calm her pounding heart. It wasn't her return she was on edge about though. She knew that the fans would be happy to have her back. The reason she was so worried was currently in the ring, battling a Samoan giant. Because of their blow up earlier in the day, they were both bound to be in foul moods. That made it harder to have to go out there and act as if they were enraptured with each other when all they really wanted to do was inflict pain on one another.

"And…go!" Stephanie signaled her, beaming widely.

She took a deep breath and pushed through the curtain, sprinting down the ramp. Thunderous applause rang in her ears but she ignored them, concentrating on pulling off her job. Climbing into the ring, she grabbed Melina by the hair and delivered her patented stratusfaction to the vocal diva. A shriek erupted from her mouth as Umaga lifted her off the canvas and she prepared herself for the inevitable slam. There was the loud smack of metal meeting flesh and her body crashed to the mat, knocking the wind out of her.

From her prone position, she watched Jeff deliver brutal, stiff looking chair-shots to Umaga that drove him and the screaming Melina from the ring. He raised the chair threatening when Umaga acted like he was going to return to the ring and called out for the Samoan bulldozer to bring it on. When Melina pulled the protesting giant through the curtain, he turned his attention to her. For the longest moment, he stared down at her but made no move. She stared back, scared that he was going to say the hell with the script and walk away from her.

He dropped the chair to the mat and leaned down, offering her his hand. She allowed him to help her to her feet and heard the excited reaction from the crowd. Their hand stayed entwined as they eyes locked on each other, pretending that it was the first time in months that they saw each other. Taking her other hand in his, he bound their fingers together, a phony curving his lips. She echoed the gesture, a dazzling smile lighting her face as the crowd went nuts.

His forehead touched hers and she tried not to recoil from the all too familiar, intimate touch. Her smile wavered slightly as his thumbs stroked the back of her hands. She felt her breath hitch as he opened his mouth.

"Don't enjoy this too much. Its just business." Lips pressed against hers in a soft, almost sweet kiss before she could verbally respond.

The reaction was deafening, hoots and hollers ringing through and sending a chill down her spine. Jeff drew back slowly, as if parting from her was the last thing he wanted to do. One hand released its death grip and he spun them toward the crowd. His free hand gestured to her and the crowd erupted once again. They did it to all four sides, earning louder reactions every time. With the crowd still eating it up, he led her out of the ring and up the ramp, saluting the fans when they reached the top.

Once they stepped through the curtain and were out of the view of the audience, he dropped her hand as if it was poisonous and stalked off without looking at her. She let out a breath she had been holding since their kiss and pushed her tousled hair back behind her shoulders. The return was over and from the sounds of it; it was successful. But the hard part had just begun. Working with Jeff again was going to be a serious test of her patience and sanity.

"Great job Stratus." Vince gave her an approving nod. "I knew that pairing you and Jeff together again would work out for the best. You two have such an easy, believable chemistry that the fans buy into it every time."

"Yeah, they do." She agreed, hoping that it sounded genuine.

"I know that you two may have difficulties syncing up your travel schedules since you live here in Toronto and He lives in North Carolina." The chairman stated flatly, "If you need any help, just call headquarters and I'm sure we'll be able to work something out."

She blanched, staring at him as if he sprouted a second head. "Uh, why would we need to coordinate our schedules?"

"I was serious about what I said. Kayfabe will be back in full effect. All my onscreen pairings will travel and appear in public together at all times during their storyline unless separated by a photo shoot."

There was a sinking feeling in her stomach and an incredible weight bearing down on her shoulders. It was one thing to spend time together on camera. But having to travel together and spend with one another in public was entirely different. There was no way it could work. They'd probably end up trying to kill each other a week into the forced contact.

But there was no way she could relate that certain piece of information to their boss. He wouldn't react well to idea of his hot new couple hating each other. The chairman would insist on resolving the issue between them and send them to the staff psychologist. Their issues did not belong being aired in front of someone with connections to their employer. If they were, it would only lead to more problems.

Plastering her patented, fake, no problems here grin to her lips, she nodded as it she understand the deranged millionaires notion. "That's fine sir. I'm sure that Jeff and I can come up with a way to make it work."

"Good but if there is any problems, just call the main offices."

That was a dismissal and one she was happy to receive. She headed further into the back and sat down on one of the large equipment trunks. Sighing heavily, she pinched the bridge of her nose. If there was any chance that they were going to survive this ordeal then there was something they had to do. Something that they hadn't been able to do in a very long time.

Have a civilized conversation.

She groaned as she walked into the hotel bar. It was crowded, the bodies of her coworkers packing every inch of the surprisingly small space. Her eyes scanned the room in search of a head full of rainbow hair that never failed to stand out. But as far as the eye could see was normal, average colors. A huff of frustration tumbled from her mouth as she once again looked around, trying to locate the elusive enigma.

He left the arena before she could find him and screwed up her plans of going home and relaxing. She got the name of the hotel that the talent was staying at from the stage manager and figured that he'd be among the raucous crowd. After all, it was a time-honored ritual that you could set your watch to. But as she scanned the room again, she wondered if he no longer took part in it.

"Hey Trish!" Lillian Garcia called out, waving at her from a booth across the room.

Cutting through the mass of humanity, she hugged her friend and took a seat at the booth occupied by her fellow divas. They chatted animatedly for a few minutes, gushing over her return and the excitement it brought back to the woman's division. She got caught up on all the latest backstage gossip, laughing at some of the more scandalous tales of her fellow superstars indiscretions. A song that most of the divas liked blared to life above their heads and she moved out of the way so they could go dance. Alone with Lil, she figured it would be the perfect time to get the information she really needed.

"Do you know if Jeff's here?" She threw the question out innocently, with a feigned smile. "I wanted to talk to him about our angle but he left the arena before I could catch him."

"If he's here, he's probably off by himself on the patio like usual."

"Thanks," She climbed out of the booth and offered her friend the first genuine grin she could manage in hours. "You and I will catch up some more later."

With a wave, she merged into the bodies, pushing through the people. The patio doors loomed a head and she felt dread spreading in the pit of her stomach. She pulled open the doors and stepped into the night, the heat instantly turning her skin sticky. Freezing in her tracks, she stared at him, almost wishing that he hadn't been out there.

Jeff looked at her through a cloud of smoke, a cigarette dangling precariously from his lips. Beside him on the wrap around wooden bench that encompassed the patio was a bottle of beer and a glass with a dark colored liquid in it. He rolled his eyes and pulled the cigarette from his lips, smoke curling from the glowing ember. Deliberately, he sat back and blew perfectly round smoke rings up at the sky before turning his attention back to her interruption. "What do you want?"

"So, this is what you do now? Alienate yourself from your coworkers and make them speculate even more than they usually do about your latest addiction?" She shook her head sadly, waving away the disgusting smoke. "Because it looks really good with you sitting out her by yourself, getting loaded and turning your lungs to charcoal."

"I don't remember inviting you to join me." He inhaled on his cigarette and concentrated his attention on more smoke rings. "So feel free to leave and not look back."

She bit the inside of her cheek to stop herself from screaming at him. Someone needed to try to make this arrangement work and take the first step. Obviously, it was going to have to be her. Drawing in a deep breath, she released it slowly, composing herself. "I think we should talk."

"Let's not." He took a last pull from his cigarette and crushed it out in the ashtray. Lifting his beer, he took a long swallow of the amber liquid then followed it some of the dark liquid in the glass.

"Vince is serious. He wants us to travel and do public appearances together."

"I know."

"You know?" She huffed, her annoyance spilling out through the words. "We both know that there's no way that we can work together without being at each other's throats."

"And talking is going to fix that?"

The air of sarcasm in his question only served to make the anger she was trying to temper down spike to a whole new level. "It's the only option I can think of."

"Conversation between us has always been a futile endeavor." He rolled the beer bottle in his hands before taking another drink from it. "I'm just an idealistic kid, remember?"

She stiffened at those words, eyes widening in disbelief. Four years ago, she used them to sum him up and he held onto it. The fact that he'd throw them up now, proved how juvenile and petty he really was for resorting to a cheap shot of that magnitude. Her mouth opened, ready to verbally shred him but he continued before the words could form.

"I don't know anything about how life, love or relationships really work." The rest of the drink in his glass was downed in one gulp. "Maybe I will someday but I'm too young and inexperienced right now to understand."

"Well, you're certainly acting like a child." She retorted acidly, smoldering eyes locked on his.

He chuckled mirthlessly, the sound grating on her raw nerves. "Ok, whatever. We talked proved it doesn't work. You can go now."

"No." She refused to give into his dismissal. "If I'm going to be stuck in an angle with you then I refuse to let it be all out war between us."

"Am I taking the blame for this too?" His tone had become vicious, poisonous and lines of fury were etched into his features. "Some things never change huh?"

"What?"

"I'm always the one to blame. Never did anything right according to you." He shook a cigarette free from his pack and lit up, curling the smoke into his mouth. "No wait a minute, that's not entirely true. There was one thing you always said that I was really good at. In fact, said it was the only thing I was good for."

She winced as if he slapped her, words spoken to erect barriers between them being lobbed back at her like grenades. Her eyes left his and focused on the wooden plans beneath her feet. Color stung her cheeks and she felt a wave of shame welling up inside her, knowing where this particular argument was heading. He was going to drag her down a path she didn't want to remember, one she desperately tried to force from her mind.

"But then again, I guess I fucked up at that too since I got you pregnant."


	5. Chapter 5

The pain coursed through her, buckling her knees. Trish weakly sank down on the wrap around bench and struggled to breath. Her head dropped into her hands and she closed her eyes against the wave of dizziness that washed over her. She hated this feeling. It was the main reason why she tried so hard to repress her past.

It was also the reason that her and Jeff could no longer have a civilized conversation. Because having to deal with this, knowing that he wouldn't ever be able let it go, was the last thing she wanted to do. Time didn't make it any easier and as she found out, neither did space. The ache was always there; the sense of shame and emptiness accompanied her daily. But being around him only made it worse.

"Do you know what it felt like not to know that I was going to be a father until you had the miscarriage?" Jeff's voice broke with emotion, all malice gone.

She exhaled loudly, "I didn't know…"

"You were two and a half months along when we lost the baby." He hissed, his cigarette being crunched out in the ashtray with more force than necessary. "Deny it all you want but there's no way that you didn't know!"

"I wasn't sure."

He was staring at her. She could feel the heat from his intense green gaze beating against her body. "Even if you only thought that you were pregnant, you should have told me."

She didn't respond to that, couldn't. Because he was right. He did have a right to know that she thought she was pregnant. But she had been too scared to take a test to confirm it, let alone confide her suspicion. Scared that if she was going to have a baby that the life she created for herself was over.

"After we lost our baby, I tried to be there for you. But you kept pushing me away. Then when I bared my soul to you, what did you do?" His question made it clear that he didn't want her to answer it because he already had it. "You told me that it was probably better that there was no baby and ripped me apart for having feelings for you."

Her forehead rested against her knees. She wanted to respond to that, to tell him the reason she acted that way. But she couldn't. Not yet. There were things he was still holding onto that she knew he needed to get out of his system.

"But you weren't done decimating me though. Not by a long shot. After you tore me down, laughed at what I felt about you, you dumped me. You went running back to safety, to a man that you knew that you could never really love, a man who could never accept who you were and accepted his proposal after being with him for only two months!"

His lighter made a hiss as he lit up another cigarette. "That killed me but I thought that was the worst thing you could do. That it was over. But I was wrong because you saved the biggest betrayal to kill me professionally."

Her eyes closed once again, her breathing heavy, as she waited for the final ugly piece of the puzzle to fall into place.

"You went to Jim Ross and told him that I was doing drugs." His voice was raspy from the smoke.

"I did it because I was worried about you." She told him honestly. "All of a sudden you were there sloppy, careless, strung out mess who had no passion, no interest in anything anymore."

"Why would I?" He shot back, tone raised in infliction. "I lost everything that meant something to me in the blink of an eye."

Trish finally forced herself to look at him. His eyes were bright, edged with red and pain was etched on his face. "That was no excuse for letting your drug use get out of hand."

"The first time I ever touched a fucking drug was after the miscarriage and you kicked me to the curb!" It was a snarl of contempt, one that twisted an invisible knife in her chest. "I was so fucking hurt and you turned your back on me. I needed something, anything to numb the pain."

"Jeff,"

"No, you know what, I'm through." He put out his cigarette and stood. Gathering his bottle and glass, he headed back inside without so much as another look at her.

She leaned back, sighing, and stared up at the clear night sky. That conversation left her exhausted, emotionally and physically. It reopened those old, deep wounds that never seemed to truly heal but merely scab over. Once again they were exposed, raw and intensely painful. Maybe they'd always be like that, festering beneath the surface where no light could reach them.

If she was honest with herself, she had to admit that she did treat him unfairly. He was only a conquest to her. A gorgeous, wild, sweet twenty-three year old that wouldn't be looking for more than just a fling. The sex was hot, passionate and crazy, exactly what she needed at the time. An easy, convenient escape from the pressures of the business and her life.

She should have known that the words simple and affair didn't go together. A year into their arrangement, she knew that her boy-toy had developed feelings for her. But she convinced herself that he was only caught up in the sex and confused about what he felt. Because he admitted to her after they had began their fling that he never had a really serious relationship and definitely never fallen in love. So she figured that there was no way that his "feelings" toward her were real. Brushing aside her concerns, she kept sleeping with him, ignoring the nagging voice in the back of her head that told her that things were only going to end badly.

A year later, when she first suspected that she was pregnant, she panicked. If she was going to have a baby, Jeff would insist on marrying her. Every told her that when she had a hypothetical conversation with her fellow divas about their male colleagues getting someone knocked up. He was a stand up guy, one who wouldn't walk away from his child. And despite the fact that he hadn't said the words, she knew that he was in love with her.

While she cared about him and they had fun, she didn't think that she felt the same. They were complete opposites and lived in two different countries. Their relationship couldn't progress past a torrid fling because it would never work. He was a dreamer, a kid who still believed that fate decided everything and you were just along for the ride. She was a realist, a woman who knew the truth about how the world really was.

When she collapsed in the women's locker room, blood pouring from her body, she knew that nothing would ever be the same. His face was the first thing she saw when she regained consciousness in the hospital. It was tear stained, despair etched into his handsome features. He held her hand and plied her with comforting words. But one look into his haunted green eyes and she could see how broken he really was and knew that it was her fault.

Two days later when she was released from the hospital, he wouldn't leave her side. Then he professed his feelings to her, confiding all the hopes and dreams he had for their relationship. It was sweet but she knew that it wasn't meant to be. That the best thing she could do for him was end thing with him, without giving him any hope that she'd change her mind someday and come back to him. So she slipped into her bitchy character and unloaded on him, shattering the heart he offered her only a few minutes before.

She ran back to Ron, a guy she had dated off and on since college, even though she knew that he didn't like the celebrity or the wrestling business. He wanted a woman who was content to be a stay at home mom who's main focus was cooking, cleaning and hockey practice. A woman who depended on her husband for everything she needed or wanted. The stereotypical 1950's housewife in a Donna Reed dress and pearls. It wasn't what she wanted but she resigned herself to pretending that she would, someday.

On the other side of the spectrum, Jeff lost himself. At first, he drank more than he used to and she'd see people helping him up to his room. Somewhere along the lines, he started hanging out with Rob and smoking pot. Then he fell apart completely. He'd wander around backstage, pale, thin and a shell of his former self.

She accepted Ron's proposal when Vince informed them that they were going to be paired together in a romantic storyline again. It was a tactic to erect a wall between them, a boundary that wouldn't be crossed. A strategy to keep her from crushing him again. But it turned out that she didn't need it. Jeff was so far gone by that point that he was barely even going through the motions anymore.

The only time he forced himself to show any spark was when they were onscreen together. Off screen, he had retreated into himself, pushing everyone away and disappearing to go get high. She pretended not to notice at first. But when she found him passed out on the locker room floor, she knew that she couldn't ignore the problem anymore. So out of concern, she went to J.R. and told him about her former flings dangerous addiction and begged him to make Jeff get help.

A month later, the company fired him for his repeated refusal to get help. For three years he was out of her life but never far from her thoughts. She read every rumor about him on the web. Watched him on TNA. Discreetly asked Amy and Matt about him and became a subscriber of the Hardy show. And then he was back in the WWE, returning at the top of his game.

Jeff looked healthier, heavier and more in control than the last time she saw him. In the ring, he had the fire, energy and excitement back. Out of it though, he was still being a loner, never exchanging more than a polite but distant greeting or response to a compliment. If their paths crossed, he'd simply nod and continue passing by, never bothering to look at her. The fact that he was still inside himself was what made her decide to retire when she got married instead of juggle the career and the husband.

When he confronted her about her decision in the bar that fateful night and assured her that it would all fall apart, she wanted to prove him wrong. But after the first two months of her marriage, she knew that he had been right. She didn't want the normal, predictable life laid out before her. Pretending to be happy as a doting wife killing her, making her regret sacrificing the career she loved so much. Instead of directing that anger at herself or her husband, she directed it toward Jeff, loathing the fact that he knew her better than she knew herself.

Her life crumbled, her sham of a marriage evaporated and she came back to the only place where she could be herself. Now she was forced to accept the fact that their lives were once again intersected and that unless they figured something out soon, they were going to crash and burn. But she did all she could for the night. To go after him and force him to deal with this right now would only cause more harm than good. He'd be easier to deal with tomorrow, after he had time to cool off.


End file.
